


Swimming Out

by mahoni



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, Action/Adventure, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-28
Updated: 2007-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahoni/pseuds/mahoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, a beach party, mermaids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swimming Out

Dean met her at the bar five minutes after they got there, had her name, number, and an invitation to a party down on the beach before another five minutes were up.

He slid into the booth across from Sam and passed him a beer.

"Party," he said. "Beach."

Sam took the beer, slouching melodramatically in the corner of the booth and wall. "No," he said. "_Tired_. We've been awake for two days."

"C'mon, Sam," Dean said. "We saved the kid, didn't get killed or arrested, and it's the Fourth of fucking July. Everybody else is going to have a bar-b-que and get shitfaced, I think we should too."

Sam held the cold bottle against his temple. He'd taken a flowerpot to the head, compliments of the poltergeist. Just a little flowerpot, but he was still being a big baby about it. He glared.

"You just want to get laid."

Dean glanced back at the bar, where the girl was watching him with a sultry look in her eyes, and then leaned forward a little over the table. "Dude, she's got legs up to here, fantastic tits, and her _ass_ \-- come on, Sammy, throw me a bone here."

*

They hit the beach a little after midnight, parking alongside the road behind a line of cars. It wasn't a huge party, but sounds of drunkenness were all over the warm night air, and some idiot was setting off random fireworks just to make a girl shriek.

The beach was fenced off, with 'No Trespassing' and 'Dangerous Undertow' signs posted every couple feet. Sam, still wearing his buzzkill face, pointed at the signs as he got out of the car.

"This cannot end well, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. Miranda (emphasis on the Mmmm) wriggled out of the back seat, giggling.

"Don't worry, Sam, people come here all the time. It'll be fun!"

Dean let her grab his hand and lead him toward a hole in the fence. "Yeah, Sam, it'll be fun!" he said, and tossed off an innocent grin.

*

He checked up on Sam periodically. For the first hour or so the moron just sat on a log drinking beer and staring at the fire. At some point a slender little thing -- Lisa, or maybe Lucy, Miranda said -- latched onto him. Dean first saw her perched on the log a careful distance away from Sam; a little while later she'd scooted closer, and Sam had his head down, tilted toward her, listening to her talk. He was even, unless it was a trick of the flickering firelight, smiling.

After that Dean didn't worry so much about him. It turned out Miranda wasn't into one night stands, but then he met Alexis, who was Amazon-tall, blonde, and a different story altogether.

*

In the creeping grey of almost dawn the party had mostly quieted down. A few people who hadn't passed out on the beach or left were splashing around in the shallow water along the shore. Bits of incomprehensible conversation and the occasional squeal as somebody got soaked floated up over the beach grass and dunes.

Dean nestled an arm under his head, watching the disappearing stars. He and Alexis were dressed again, his gun tucked discreetly back in his waistband. Her tousled head resting on his chest, she was babbling about something, about her dogs, or her ex-boyfriend's dog, maybe about her ex-boyfriend being a dog; Dean wasn't paying attention. He was relaxed, drowsing. Him and Sam, they didn't do this much -- hang out, no worries, crash a kegger together and celebrate a holiday with normal people. It was nice.

The shout jerked him straight out of his doze.

"Dean!"

He'd dumped Alexis off him and was running before he realized the splashing and squealing he'd been hearing had gotten louder, more frantic.

"Get out of the water!" Two gunshots followed Sam's command. "_Dean!_"

*

Sam lay flopped on his back in the sand, staring up at the pink sky with his blackest scowl. Dean wandered through the remnants of the party -- abandoned coolers, dying fires, trash. He rescued a nearly empty bottle of champagne and sat down beside Sam.

"Shut up," he said, and took a drink. The champagne was flat and had sand in it.

"I didn't say anything."

"I could hear you thinking it."

"I told you, didn't I?" Sam said. "I told you. And then -- mermaids, Dean. _Mermaids_."

Not the Disney kind, either. These were ugly bastards. Scaly, earless, bald heads and big opaque eyes, mouths full of shark-like teeth -- 'Dangerous Undertow,' his ass. Clawed, grasping hands were what had been pulling people under for the last hundred years, not the undertow.

Wouldn't ever again, though.

Dean glanced down. The red marks ringing Sam's neck would definitely bruise, and the side of his face was already purpley-black.

Dean had already emptied his gun into several of the creatures and was out of bullets by the time he got to where a mermaid had Sam pinned under the water. He'd busted a bottle over its head; the bottle had come apart in his hand, slicing up his palm, but it'd stunned the thing. Rearing up in the water, choking and water-blind, Sam had grabbed the thing's head and given it a sharp, savage twist.

Which was more than a little creepy, frankly, but Sam hadn't had a choice. Dean knew that. They did what they had to do.

"Yeah, well," he said, staring out over the water. A salt breeze washed over them, drowning the stench of fish and blood. "You have to admit. Free booze. Great sex -- well, for me. You didn't get any, which is a trend that's really starting to worry me, dude. But still," he finished before Sam could cut in. "The party wasn't a total bust."

"I'd kill you if I could move."

The sun breached the horizon and Dean had to look away. He drank down the rest of the champagne and tossed the bottle. "Whatever. Let's go."

*


End file.
